About a year ago, my entire life changed when a family member close to me died by suicide. I was a senior in college and in class when my dad called to tell me Elizabeth, the sister of my long-term boyfriend, had passed away. It was heart-wrenching. Someone I had imagined standing next to us at our wedding was suddenly gone. That loss carried an echo, stirring memories of my mom’s own sister who had taken her life twenty years earlier. I never thought it would happen so close to me, but that was only the beginning. Soon after Elizabeth’s passing, my boyfriend left for boot camp. He had been trying to get into the military for nearly two years, and once he finally had his ship-out date, his sister died. I had to grow quickly in order to support him, and I wish I could say it was easy. Eight weeks. Eight weeks that I couldn’t say anything to him. All I could do was sit with my thoughts... and my schoolwork. How could I focus on assignments when my mind was consumed with worry? My anxiety was taking control of me. Anxiety disorder has been part of my life since I was fifteen, but grief was something new. I struggled to focus in class, scrolling endlessly through the boot camp Facebook group instead of working on my projects. My heart raced so violently at times that I thought it might just—stop. And yet, I had to pull myself together to finish my degree, and finish it strong. I had to learn to be my own person again, without my boyfriend of five years by my side. I wrote him letters, journaled nightly, and regularly talked with his mom. Those eight weeks revealed what I truly value, and when we were finally reunited, my heart rested for the first time in months. Since then, more has happened in one year than in the rest of my life combined. My boyfriend got assigned to a base six hours away from home. I studied abroad in Italy. He turned twenty-one. I graduated. He began struggling to cope and turned to alcohol. I started a new job. He was sent to a mental health clinic. On paper, everything in my life was going right, yet the person I love most was crumbling. This time, as I learned to support him again, I also faced my own battle with mild depression. Crawling out of that state gave me a new perspective on people who fight depression every day. I began to understand why someone would want to end that fight. Both mine and my partner’s struggles, two very different battles, have reshaped our relationship. They will always be part of us. But through it all, I’ve made one promise to myself: I will not stop fighting. Mental health struggles can be killers, but I won’t let them kill me. Realizing how fragile life is has forced me to see the world differently. As a teenager, I didn’t care about the meaning of life, but now, in my twenties, I search for it—knowing I may never find an answer. I’ve learned that life is so delicate; you can stamp “FRAGILE” all over a box, yet you can’t control how it will be handled. What I can control is my response: to keep moving forward, to keep supporting others, and to keep living. My goals now are rooted in resilience. Finishing what I start, valuing relationships, and building a life of living, not just surviving.

I grew up in a small town with minimal opportunities for people my age to help the community. In high school, I often volunteered at miscellaneous jobs like stocking food shelves at our local food pantry, organizing clothes at our local shelter, or helping lay mulch at the town park. I was able to do these types of miscellaneous jobs a few times each, having small positive impacts on my community by just being helpful. I did these random jobs a lot, but it wasn't until I got to college that I began to volunteer consistently with the same organization where I really began to feel that my volunteering had a huge impact on the community. This past semester at UNC Charlotte, I got involved with the Black Child Development Institute, an organization that works to improve the schooling experience for children in the area. I was able to work with a local school and volunteer as a tutor during afterschool. Over my time volunteering at this school for about 8 weeks straight, I noticed the positive change I was having in my community. The kindergarteners that I saw every week started calling me their best friend, cousin, or even sister. I learned every single one of the 12 kindergarteners' names within 2 weeks of working with them, along with them learning my name. Working with kindergarteners can be hectic as they can be little balls of big energy, but I believe that is how I got the most out of that experience. I loved seeing my impact on these children and watching them grow for a short period of time. Volunteering with local organizations has always been my way of having a positive impact on my community, and moving to a bigger city has only opened up those opportunities.

After over 4 years of art being my favorite subject in school, I don't think I've ever considered what my favorite piece of art is. There are a lot of works of art that have influenced me and hold some sort of emotional value in my mind, but the piece of art that compels me most is "Waterfall" by MC Escher. It may not exactly be a classic or even MC Escher's most famous piece, but "Waterfall" holds meaning to me for many different reasons. In my high school art classroom, right behind where I sat in my last semester of high school, hung a copy of MC Escher's "Waterfall." For 3 years in a row, I saw that drawing, and I could have looked at it for the entire class period every day I was in class. I loved how it was an illusion without screaming "I'M AN ILLUSION!" One day, my art teacher was asking me what I thought I could do for my next project. I had been wanting to do a 3-point perspective drawing, something I hadn't done before. When I told him that, he gave me the suggestion to make it an Escher-style drawing. That "Waterfall" drawing became the inspiration for how I would create my own MC Escher drawing. That drawing would be the first thing I add to my portfolio to get into architecture. Architecture had been a big interest of mine for a long time, and MC Escher's drawings sparked that interest in architecture in a new way for me. It was architecture that defied every law of physics, and I find that extremely cool. Creating my own Escher-style drawing gave me an appreciation for his work. It takes a level of creativity and imagination I hope to have in my career.